


so lucky this one lets dogs hang around

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Shot, This takes place in a radically different universe post 3.06, Tumblr Prompt, and puppies!!!, so basically an ideal universe, that involves 100 percent less cheating, where rebecca and nathaniel eventually fall into a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-29 18:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: “You forgot to let him out,” Heather says flatly. It’s not a question, and the blanket creases imprinted in Rebecca’s face make denial futile.“He’s obviously learned how to open my closet door,” Rebecca says, and the dog’s tail starts whapping against the carpet when she gestures toward him. “Is it really that unreasonable to assume he might have learned how to open the front door, too?”“Yes,” Heather says through gritted teeth.“Yeah,” Rebecca agrees solemnly, nodding her head.Rebecca and Nathaniel grapple with pet ownership.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Bethany, who edited this on super short notice just so I could post it this close to the s4 premiere. Did you ever know that you're my hero?
> 
> Anyway, this fic fills the prompt r/n + things you said in that higher-pitched tone of voice one may or may not use when talking to a dog, and is written to appeal specifically to an audience of one. But if you were brave enough to click this link, I hope maybe it'll pull you in, too.
> 
> For further reading [click here](http://catty-words.tumblr.com/post/170666373165/40-pet-rethaniel-cause-im-greedy) and [here](http://notbang.tumblr.com/post/171094636854/nathaniel-five-times-he-was-an-overly-anxious). For some visual aids, [click here](http://notbang.tumblr.com/post/172825522054/please-accept-these-self-indulgent-doodles-of)

“Rebecca!” Heather’s voice booms throughout the house. “Get your completely-unprepared-to-own-a-pet ass out here!”

Bolting upright in bed, Rebecca casts a panicked glance over at the clock on her nightstand.

“Shit,” she says, scrambling to kick off her sheets and find the pants she’d been wearing before she’d laid down to take what was supposed to be a twenty minute nap. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Dammit, Rebecca!”

“I’m coming,” she says, practically throwing herself out of her bedroom. “I’m coming, I’m coming. I’m here.”

Heather’s standing in the doorway looking pointedly from Captain, who’s sprawled out in the living room gnawing on one of Rebecca’s nicer flats (does it count as personal growth that she’s relieved it’s not Heather’s?), to the puddle of urine spreading in the foyer.

“You forgot to let him out,” Heather says flatly. It’s not a question, and the blanket creases imprinted in Rebecca’s face make denial futile.

“He’s obviously learned how to open my closet door,” Rebecca says, and the dog’s tail starts whapping against the carpet when she gestures toward him. “Is it really that unreasonable to assume he might have learned how to open the front door, too?”

“Yes,” Heather says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah,” Rebecca agrees solemnly, nodding her head.

“Well…?”

“Well what?

Heather’s fists clench at her sides. “Well, clean it up so I can finally come inside without soaking my work shoes in dog pee!”

Though it’s definitely a lot of pee, the puddle is in no way keeping Heather from fully entering the house. Rebecca quirks an eyebrow at her roommate. “They already smell like the dump where French fry grease goes to die. It might be an improvement.”

“Rebecca, I swear to god—”

“Fine! I’ve got it. Geeze.” She goes into the kitchen to grab the paper towels and disinfectant. “Unclench, dude.”

“Maybe after this weekend’s finally over,” Heather says, gingerly stepping around her as she starts sopping up the accident, her face contorted with disgust.

As she’s stuffing the soaked towel into a plastic bag, Heather drops into one of the kitchen chairs with a world-weary sigh. Captain clambers to his feet and trots over to her. Rebecca smiles to herself as he pushes his nose into the huge ketchup stain on Heather’s pants.

“I know it’s not your fault that your mom’s incompetent,” Heather says, stage-whispering to the dog, “but I’m still mad at you.”

He gives a high-pitched yip in response.

“Great, even the dog gives me lip.”

Rebecca laughs, and pats Captain on the head as she passes on her way to the garbage. “Good boy.”

“I would threaten to hurt you,” Heather says, eyeing Rebecca as she washes her hands, “but we both know I’m too tired to follow through.”

“Yeah, party planning is a lot of work. I mean, _I_ wouldn’t know. I didn’t actually end up doing much work for my wedding, but watching it happen, it seemed like a lot of work.”

“I don’t know,” Heather says. “That nervous breakdown you had was pretty exhausting. I mean, I was wigged out just witnessing it.”

“It wasn’t a nervous breakdown,” Rebecca says, leaning against the kitchen island.

“Really. And what would you call it?”

“A…heightened reaction to stressors that aggravated my deep-seated trauma and unattainable need to be quote-unquote normal.”

“Therapy’s going well, I see.”

Heather says it sarcastically, but Rebecca responds, “It is,” with a sincerity that’s undercut only by her forcefulness.

“Right. And what did your therapist have to say about your impulse decision to buy a dog?”

“What time is Valencia coming over again?” Rebecca asks, shuffling them off onto a new topic. “Maybe you could sneak in a quick nap before you have to square off against Miss Neuroticism.”

Heather frowns and sits up a little straighter in her chair. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

“About Valencia?”

“About the dog,” Heather says, “and the party.”

Rebecca scoffs. “Don’t you worry your precious, curly head. I’ve already rehearsed the pick-up script a hundred times. Your parents will never suspect that ‘Heather and I thought it would be fun to cook you dinner’ is code for ‘I’m driving you to your surprise anniversary party.’ And Cap is totally cool with car rides. He sticks his little nose out the window, trying to catch all the smells he can. It’s pretty adorable.”

“Right,” Heather says flatly, “but that’s actually what—”

“Are you ready to meet Mr. and Mrs. Heather?” Rebecca asks Captain, crouching down and holding her arms wide. The dog rushes over to her, jumping up and planting his paws on her chest. The force of it knocks her back onto her ass. “That’s a good boy,” she continues, a little breathless. “So excited for all the attention you’re gonna get tomorrow.”

“He’s not invited,” Heather snaps, putting an end to Rebecca’s cooing.

Captain isn’t deterred, though. He continues to dance around Rebecca until she pushes him away. With a confused whine, he turns in a circle before plopping his butt down in her lap.

“What do you mean he’s not invited? He lives here.”

Heather takes a deep breath through her nose. “My parents’ friends aren’t really dog people.”

“Everyone is dog people, Heather,” Rebecca says authoritatively.

“Yeah, well, they’re not. Also…” she pauses to scrub a hand down her face, “…we both know you’re not gonna do any work if the dog is around because you’ll say you’re watching him, but then you’re not actually gonna watch the dog and I just really don’t want to have to deal with Captain while everything else is going on.”

With an offended gasp, Rebecca reaches out to cover Captain’s ears. The dog immediately lifts his chin, trying to look back at her while facing forward.

“I had no idea you were so callous,” she says to Heather.

Heather looks unamused. “Come on, Rebecca. I’m not asking you to get rid of him—”

“You monster!”

“—I’m just asking you to find a place to keep him for a day.”

“You want to uproot him from life as he knows it.”

“Can we not be so dramatic for, like, five minutes?”

That word pulls Rebecca up short, the playfulness she’d felt a second ago giving way to hurt.

“I guess not,” she says haughtily, pushing the dog off her and scrambling to her feet. “I’m too unhinged and ridiculous. You know me.”

“Rebecca,” Heather calls after her as she moves toward her room. “You know I’m not saying that in a mean way. I just want to have a conversation about boundaries like normal adults.”

She must realize what she’s said wrong a beat too late because when Rebecca whirls around, Heather already looks regretful.

“Well I’m so sorry I can’t be normal. Captain, come!”

The dog doesn’t listen.

“That’s not what I meant either. I’m just trying—where are you going?”

“To pack a doggie bag,” Rebecca says before kicking her bedroom door shut behind her. Hastily, she shoves the party outfit she’d picked out for tomorrow and a couple other essentials into a tote bag. Then, she grabs Captain’s leash from where it’s hanging by the outside door.

It’s the first thing the dog notices when Rebecca storms out of the bedroom, and he runs over to her.

“What are you doing?” Heather says, sounding weary.

“Getting a head start on your request.”

“You don’t have to leave.” When Rebecca doesn’t answer, she adds, “I’m sorry, you know.”

Rebecca let’s out a long breath through her nose. “I know. And I’m gonna forgive you. I’m just also gonna spend the night at Nathaniel’s. Cool?”

Heather gives her a half-hearted smile. “Cool.”

###

“Not cool!” Nathaniel says when he finally answers Rebecca’s calls. “You know how I feel about having the dog in my apartment.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes at Captain, who huffs in response. “It’s just one night, dude. Well, one night and most of tomorrow. What’s the most damage that could be done?”

“Do we have to rehash the wine glass incident?”

“You can’t even tell there’s a chardonnay stain on the rug. No harm, no foul.”

“Yes, harm! Major foul!”

“Look, the rug is ugly anyway. Captain was just doing you a favor.”

Captain barks as if to confirm this.

Nathaniel sighs into the phone. “I can’t watch him, Rebecca. I have a lot of work to get done this weekend.”

“Neglecting your kid for the law. This is how it starts.”

“How what starts?”

“Childhood trauma. You know it, I know it. Pretty soon, Captain will know, too.”

She can practically hear him grinding his teeth. “It’s not even my dog.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says. “You’d disown him that easily?”

“Disown,” Nathaniel scoffs. “I barely agreed to this in the first place. I especially didn’t agree to let a messy, untrained animal live in my apartment for any length of time.”

“You said you thought you’d be open to it!” Rebecca says. “Don’t make me bring in reinforcements. Paula will back me up.”

“Exactly! I _thought_ about it. I didn’t expect you to go pick out a dog the very next day.”

“Well why the hell not?”

He lets out a surprised laugh, and Rebecca smiles.

“It’s one night and one day,” she says in her best innocent voice. When he doesn’t protest immediately, she pushes further, “Captain needs a strong male role model in his life, and Heather needs some time off from my laissez-faire approach to pet ownership…please?”

“Laissez-faire is right.”

“I promise to be as attentive as possible tonight. I won’t take my eyes off the dog for a second.”

“Well now there’s no incentive to agree to this at all,” he says.

“Okay, I’ll take my eyes off the dog for a couple minutes—five tops.”

“Ouch.”

She laughs. “The choice is yours, dude. A wine stain-free apartment or good sex.”

“Ideally, there’d be both.”

“I understand your white male privilege has prevented you from learning this lesson—and, boo-hoo, I’ll remember to cry about it later—but sometimes we gotta take what we can get.”

Rebecca can perfectly picture him rolling his eyes and grins to herself. 

“Fine,” he says after a pregnant pause. “How long until you get here?”

“Oh, I’m already downstairs,” Rebecca says, turning off her car’s ignition.

“Of course you are.”

###

“Alright,” Rebecca says, crouching down so she’s on the dog’s level once they’re in the elevator. “We’ve gotta be on our best behavior for the next twenty-four hours so Nathaniel will invite you back. Can you do that?”

Captain licks at her face, nipping a little as his enthusiasm mounts.

“That’s the spirit,” she says, standing up and using her t-shirt to wipe the dog spit from her face.

The elevator doors slide open on Nathaniel’s floor then, and someone lets out a breathy, “Oh my!” Whether it’s in response to her boobs or the fact that Captain yanks so hard on his leash that Rebecca loses her grip, allowing him to bolt past the scandalized woman as soon as the doors finish opening, Rebecca doesn’t stay to find out.

“Captain, heel!” she shouts, dropping her shirt and chasing after the dog.

He’s already at Nathaniel’s apartment, though, tail a wagging blur as he scratches at the door.

“Come on, kid.” She throws up her hands. “You’re killin’ me.”

Nathaniel’s door flies open, his eyes finding hers immediately. He raises an unimpressed brow in lieu of greeting.

“I mean, doesn’t it make it a little better that he’s so excited to see you?” Rebecca asks.

As if to emphasize this excitement, Captain jumps up, trying in vain to lick Nathaniel’s face from the ground.

“It does not,” Nathaniel replies, leaning back as much as he can without giving himself over to the dog’s momentum.

“Captain, down,” Rebecca commands. The dog, of course, does not listen.

“I see his training is going well.”

“Well, you know, it’s like therapy.”

“How so?” he asks, giving up with a sigh and getting down to his knees so Captain can lick his face to his heart’s content.

She grins, fingers twitching toward her phone so she can take a picture. Making a big deal out of the moment is the quickest way to get Nathaniel to backpedal, though, so she restrains herself, settling for answering his question. “It’s a work in progress.”

“Right,” he says, standing and stepping out of the doorway. “I’m sure a lot of work is going into the operation.”

“Oh, for sure. It’s just all Heather’s.”

Nathaniel lets out a soft laugh. “And how is she doing?”

She stops short just inside his apartment and narrows her eyes at him. “Why? You guys friends or something?”

He gives her a funny look. “What, am I not allowed to show interest in the other people in your life?”

“It’s somewhat unprecedented,” she says, poking him in the stomach.

He hums, acknowledging this, and bends down to give her a kiss. “What if I told you I’m showing solidarity for my fellow put-upon involuntary co-pet owner? Does that establish precedent?”

“It does, actually.” 

He makes a ‘well there you have it’ sort of gesture.

She shakes her head. “Asshole.”

He lets out a soft huff of a laugh, his eyes gleaming playfully, and she’s about to see if she can’t tempt him away from work for those agreed-upon five minutes when a _thud_ sounds from the kitchen.

“Dammit.” She breaks away from Nathaniel immediately, following the sound.

She finds Captain trying to nose open the cabinet under the sink.

“Captain, no,” she says firmly, avoiding Nathaniel’s eyes when the dog doesn’t so much as twitch at the sound of her command.

With a sigh, he moves over to Captain, pushing him out of the way his knee, and opens the cabinet. When he pulls out a large bag of dog treats, Rebecca gasps.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You bought him treats.”

“I did.”

“But he’s not allowed in your apartment, right?”

Nathaniel tosses the bag onto the counter. “Apparently, I’m going to have to find a better hiding place. I’d say the dog is too smart for his own good, but if that were true, he’d have picked up the basic commands by now.”

“You love him,” Rebecca says, sashaying over to where Nathaniel’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and slipping her hands into the back pockets of his slacks.

Captain barks up at the both of them, clearly expecting a prize.

“Unless he has picked them up and is deliberately ignoring us,” Nathaniel says, avoiding Rebecca’s smug smile by staring up at the ceiling.

“You want to buy him all the nicest things. You want him to be the most spoiled puppy on the planet.”

Captain pushes his nose against Rebecca’s thigh insistently at the same time Nathaniel drapes his arms around her waist and meets her eyes.

“They’re for dental health,” he says, as if this absolves him of actually caring.

“Aww, you care about his hygiene.”

Nathaniel’s scowl is comical, but Rebecca manages to bite back her laugh when he slides out of her grip. “I’ve got work to do.”

“You can run and hide all you want, but I know how you really feel now,” she calls after him.

He grunts noncommittally.

She turns to Captain, who lets out a whining yip, his eyes darting from the retreating Nathaniel to the counter where the treats disappeared out of his sight and back to her.

“If I give you one now,” she says, already opening the package and extracting one of the rank-smelling sticks, “you have to promise to be good.”

Captain starts bouncing and his wagging tail hits the cabinet, the steady beat echoing through the kitchen.

“Sit,” Rebecca says.

The dog folds himself into an almost-sit, his butt not completely touching the ground.

“I’m supposed to wait until you sit all the way,” she tells him.

But Captain has other plans. No sooner than the words are out of her mouth, he’s launched himself at the treat, nipping Rebecca as he grabs it out of her hand before trotting off toward the living room.

“Good dog,” she says to herself, grimacing down at her stinging fingers.

###

“Nathaniel,” Rebecca whines, rounding out all the vowels in his name. She drops the novel she’d been trying to focus on with little luck into her lap.

He makes an acknowledging sound in the back of his throat, but doesn’t spare a glance at her even as he looks back and forth between his laptop’s screen and the file open atop the barrier of papers he’d set up between them.

“I’m bored. Pay attention to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching the dog?”

She looks pointedly to where Captain is dozing on the ground. “Yeah, and later I’m gonna time some drying paint to see how long that takes.”

It’d taken the dog all of two minutes to inhale his treat, and then he spent about an hour running around in circles, nearly knocking into Nathaniel’s free-standing shelf full of books twice and starting the ‘Well That’s a Stupid Place for a Shelf’ argument anew.

After finally tuckering himself out, Captain had tried to hop onto the bed for a nap, but Rebecca had caught his collar before Nathaniel had even noticed, ignoring the guilty catch in her stomach at the dog’s surprised and hurt grunt. Nathaniel had a strict no-furniture rule that the dog was gunning to break, but she really didn’t want to spend the entire night revisiting dog-related tiffs.

Once she’d gotten him settled in a Nathaniel-approved napping location, Rebecca’d been keen on collecting her sexy times, but by that time Nathaniel had already immersed himself completely in work, leaving her to her own devices.

“I’ll be at a good stopping point soon,” Nathaniel says, repeating himself for the third time that evening.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He doesn’t acknowledge her sarcasm, and after a few seconds, she hums thoughtfully. “What if I just…?” Rebecca trails off, about to throw herself down over the file barrier and into his lap.

Correctly anticipating the move, Nathaniel throws his arm out to catch her by the shoulder, sending some of the papers fluttering off the top in his panic. “Don’t!” he yells before clearing his throat and finishing in a more collected voice, “even think about it.”

“Too late for that,” she says. “So I might as well just do it, right?”

His nose twitches, and Rebecca sees all the familiar signs that irritation and amusement are warring in his mind. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, trying to look innocent.

He’s on the cusp of giving in, she can tell, but his shout had stirred Captain, who—with a noisy yawn—scrambles up to his clumsy feet.

“Dammit,” she curses under her breath.

“Good dog,” Nathaniel says to him, his voice as curt and matter-of-fact as it is when he’s doling out praise to Whitefeather employees.

“Why do you talk to him like that?”

Nathaniel casts a surprised look at her, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tight. “Like what?”

“Like he’s on your payroll or something.”

“How else am I supposed to talk to him?”

Rebecca has to plant her hand firmly on Captain’s chest to keep him from jumping up onto the couch, but quickly soothes away his whine with a conciliatory ear massage.

“I don’t know. Like normal people talk to animals.” When Nathaniel narrows his eyes, Rebecca rolls hers, and then turns toward the dog, shifting to the edge of the couch and planting her feet on either side of his wriggling butt. “Are you a good boy?” she asks him, demonstrating proper form for Nathaniel. “Yes, you are. You’re the best boy. Who’s the prettiest boy in the room? It’s Captain! You’re so cute, yes, you are.”

“Gross” Nathaniel says, scowling.

“I mean, _obviously_ I think you’re the prettiest boy in the room, so there’s no need to be jealous, really.”

He remains unamused, saying with a completely serious tone, “You’re belittling him.”

Rebecca’s eyes slide from Nathaniel’s appalled face to the excited, whole-body-wagging puppy at their feet.

“That’s not the point,” Nathaniel says.

“What is the point?” she asks before sliding off the couch so Captain stops trying to jump onto it to lick her and gets a face full of dog tongue.

She feels Nathaniel watching her for a long moment, but then he lets out a frustrated huff. “I have work to do. Forget it.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to talk about how you’re clearly projecting your toxic ideal of manhood onto a dog that doesn’t even know gender is a thing?” she asks, trying to hold in her laughter as Captain sticks his tongue in her ear.

“I am not projecting.”

“Oh, dude, you so are. Hardcore.”

“Well, what do you expect?” Nathaniel snaps, catching Rebecca off guard. Suddenly worried that she took the teasing a little too far, she grabs Captain’s collar and holds him at arm’s length so she can look up at Nathaniel. “Isn’t that why you named him after me? To taunt me?”

She licks her lips to stop herself from smiling, but it doesn’t quite cover her self-satisfied grin.

“I knew it!” he shouts, reaching over the top of his laptop to point a finger at her.

“What? No! Come on!” Rebecca says, scratching around Captain’s neck to keep him complacent. “That’s not—that’s not a thing that I did.”

“You named the dog Captain to make fun of me and water polo.”

“I mean, if I actually knew anything about water polo, I’d find way cleverer ways to make fun of it all the time.”

Nathaniel makes a whiny, incensed noise that seems to come from high in his nose, and she almost loses it. He sounds like Captain when Rebecca’s even a minute late feeding him.

“Not the point,” she says hurriedly, trying not to dwell on the mental image she’d just gotten. “Not the point.” Nathaniel’s nostrils flare. “Hey, let’s not forget that _you_ wouldn’t let me name him Sandy.”

“That’s a girl’s name!” Before Rebecca can make a comment about the futility of gendering names, though, he hastens to add, “Plus that musical is awful and annoying. Who willingly adopts a singing toddler? It’s like, how can you make a child worse? I know! Have it sing about its feelings all the time!”

“Excuse me,” Rebecca says, pushing up to her knees so she can more easily look him in the eye. “ _Annie_ is a musical theater _classic_ that’s contributed _multiple_ cultural-touchstone songs to the show tune canon and a _heartwarming_ story about finding love in unlikely places. _Furthermore_ , the original Sandy is also a boy!”

His face blotchy with emotion, Nathaniel turns his attention back to his file folders, apparently deciding her defense of _Annie_ isn’t worth a response.

While that only fans her anger, making her throat throb with a feeling not unlike acid reflux, a subdued voice in the back of her mind wonders if maybe she’s just extra temperamental today—picking a fight with Heather with little provocation, picking a fight with Nathaniel over even less.

The thought tamps down the hottest flare of temper in her throat, and she swallows thickly, settling back on her haunches.

“Alright, it was a little bit about goading you, naming the dog Captain.”

He glances back at her, expression softening a fraction.

“But it was also supposed to, like, help you guys bond.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he tells her, but an involuntary smile lights up his face, making her laugh.

“I don’t know, dude,” she says, “I know you talk to that dumb picture in your office, telling it all your darkest secrets. I still think there’s something to my idea.”

“I don’t tell my darkest secrets to a picture,” he says indignantly, moving his laptop as Rebecca shuffles over to him and runs her palms up his thighs.

“Oh no?” she asks.

“Nope.” He leans forward until their noses practically brush. “Got someone else to listen to those now.”

“Heather?” she guesses, and Nathaniel shakes his head, his breath fanning over her cheeks as he chuckles.

Before he can kiss her, though, Captain jumps onto the couch, knocking into the tower of files and sending them scattering in all directions.

Rebecca and Nathaniel swear in unison.

###

“Captain, down,” Rebecca says blearily, flinging her arm out to push the dog back off the bed.

“This would stop happening if we lock him in the bathroom,” Nathaniel says, way too haughty for two in the morning.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” she shoots back at once. “I won’t be able to sleep listening to him cry all night.”

“You’re not sleeping now.”

“And whose fault is _that_?” Rebecca asks, kicking him in the shin.

“Jesus,” he says, flinching away from her when her toenail jabs into his skin. “Probably the person who bought a puppy on a whim.”

“Or the heartless bastard who won’t let a puppy sleep on their bed for a night.”

Nathaniel lets out an angry grunt, then, “ _Down_ , Captain.”

The dog lands back on the ground with an echoing _thud_ , and Rebecca sits upright so fast, she imagines her tired brain sloshing around in her head.

“Captain?”

“He’s fine,” Nathaniel says, exasperated, and tries to tug Rebecca back down next to him.

“No, no, I’m gonna sleep on the floor,” she says, grabbing a pillow and slipping out from under the sheets.

Nathaniel groans. “Not again.”

“It’s the only thing that makes him stop,” Rebecca says, cooing the words and Captain rushes over to cover her face with kisses.

“You’re only reinforcing his bad behavior,” Nathaniel says from atop the bed.

“Was that your father’s excuse for not cuddling you as a child?”

“Nice,” he responds dryly.

“Yes, okay, I’m sorry,” she says, trying to sound as sincere as possible while overtired and frustrated. “I’ve been inflammatory today, and it probably comes from a place of defensiveness because everyone keeps criticizing my parenting, but I’m not just gonna sit by and let my kid suffer when I know I can help, okay?”

“Should we talk about how you’re projecting your need to right your childhood trauma onto a dog that has no concept of lasting emotional damage?”

“Not funny.”

“Okay.” After a minute, Nathaniel adds meekly, “I just don’t want my sheets to smell like dog.”

“I know,” Rebecca says, her voice cool as she fluffs up her pillow before rolling onto her side. Captain walks in a circle a couple times and then settles along the curve of her, heavy head resting in the nook of her elbow.

In the quiet stillness of the apartment, Rebecca starts to doze off. In fact, she’s nearly asleep by the time Nathaniel shifts over to her side of the bed and lays a hand on her upper arm, giving a squeeze.

It’s not exactly the gesture she wants, but it still makes her stomach jump pleasantly.

“Thanks,” she whispers into the darkness.

He makes a tired noise in the back of his throat.

She falls asleep with a small smile on her face, he with his arm hanging off the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to sound like a broken record, but Bethany is the best and I am always grateful for her beta skillzzz.
> 
> To reiterate, this fic fills the prompt r/n + things you said in that higher-pitched tone of voice one may or may not use when talking to a dog, and is STILL written to appeal specifically to an audience of one. But shoutout/love to anthropologicalhands for joining the party.
> 
> Next up in this universe: Nathaniel gets way too competitive at doggie obedience class!  
> Kidding.  
> ...Unless I actually end up writing it.

The soft click of his front door falling shut chases the fading moments of Nathaniel’s dream away. He rolls over onto his back and pushes his hair up out of his face.

“Sorry,” Rebecca says from over by the door and he rubs his eyes open in time to see her unclipping Captain’s leash. “I was trying not to wake you up.”

“What time is it?” he asks dumbly. “Why are you awake?”

“I have to go help Heather and Valencia set up for the party,” she says, and he thinks he picks up on the slightest chill in her tone, undoubtedly left over from last night’s fight.

“Right,” he says, sitting up and keeping his tone a smidge formal. “You mentioned you had to do that.”

After standing in the doorway a beat longer, Rebecca rolls her eyes and walks over to the bed. She gives him a quick good morning kiss before scooping up the bag of Captain’s things and heading for the kitchen.

The dog trots along in her wake.

Nathaniel frowns after them for a moment and then rolls out of bed, padding over to the bathroom.

When he emerges with freshly brushed teeth, it’s to find Rebecca crouched in the middle of the living room, trying to coax Captain to lie down.

“He’s already been outside twice this morning,” she says, getting to her feet. This time, there’s a defensive, nagging edge in her voice. “And I fed him breakfast. So you should be good to work for a couple hours before he needs attention again.”

“Right,” he says, feeling anxiety suddenly grab in his stomach. He’s never spent a whole day alone with the dog, and despite what she might think, he’s keen on not screwing it up.

Correctly reading his expression, Rebecca’s eyes lose their guardedness and she gets on tiptoes to grab his face in both hands. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“I know,” he says, forcing some cockiness into his voice.

“And I’ll have my phone on me,” she says, clearly not convinced by his bravado. “You know, in case of emergency.”

It’s pitiful, but that does loosen the tension he feels building in his shoulders. She smiles and kisses him once, twice, three times before hiking her purse up onto her shoulder, giving the dog’s ears a quick ruffle, and then heading for the door.

Captain jumps to his feet as soon as it closes behind her.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Nathaniel says to him, feeling self-conscious at the matter-of-factness he hears in his voice. But he refuses to employ the stupid, gushing affectation. He still has some self-respect, after all.

The dog barks at him.

“Well I’m not thrilled about it either,” he snaps.

With a whining little yip, the dog settles back down on the ground.

Nathaniel doesn’t say anything else, but he feels a ridiculous stab of guilt, left with the absurd impression that he’s somehow hurt the dog’s feelings.

###

“Captain, get down from there,” Nathaniel yells from the couch.

But the dog ignores him, pressing his slimy wet nose into the pillow on the side of the bed where Rebecca usually sleeps. His tail wags a little.

Nathaniel groans and sets aside his laptop to go scoop the dog off the mattress and set him on the ground for what feels like the millionth time in ninety minutes.

Unperturbed by Nathaniel’s gruff handling of him, Captain runs off to the other end of the apartment as soon as he’s been set down. Just a moment later, the repeated thud of the dog trying to fruitlessly get into the kitchen cabinets sounds throughout the apartment.

After stewing for a second in impotent anger, Nathaniel decides this is as good a preoccupation for the dog as any and tries to refocus on work.

He’s managed to read the same line in a deposition three times without comprehension before a loud, metal clang echoes in the small space and makes him jump.

Captain is sitting among a mess of toppled pots, practically every cabinet within his reach gaping open around him, when Nathaniel appears in the doorway.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying not to scream, and hears Rebecca’s voice in his head. _He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He’s just bored and wants your attention. I can relate—hey-o!_

Feeling his anger ebb, replaced by a dumb, creeping smile, he starts cleaning up the mess. The dog watches him curiously for a moment before leaving the room, evidently not as entertained by damage control as he is by creating damage.

Once the pots have been wiped down and put away, Nathaniel hurries back into the main room. Sure enough, he finds Captain snoozing away on the bed, one of his paws dangling off the edge of the mattress.

Try as he might to remain unaffected by how cute the dog looks, his flare of frustration is definitely tempered by unwelcome warmth. With a sigh, he pulls out his phone and takes a picture. He texts it to Rebecca with the caption: _you owe me big time._

After watching the dog for a moment, he glances back over to his laptop, still sitting on the couch. He should probably just accept the fact that trying to work is futile.

With a resigned sigh, Nathaniel changes into some running clothes and pulls on his shoes. For a second, he considers sneaking out while the dog is asleep, but—as tempting as the idea is—he knows it’ll only lead to regret. Huffing, he grabs the leash Rebecca had left hanging by the door.

Hearing the familiar jangle, Captain wakes up and slides immediately down onto the ground—Nathaniel makes a mental note about the effectiveness of the move—scampering over to him and jumping around Nathaniel’s feet.

“I can’t put on your leash if you don’t sit still,” he tells the dog sternly.

Unsurprisingly, Captain doesn’t respond to the logic.

“Sit,” Nathaniel tries to command.

Again, he’s ignored. But before he can work himself up too much, the dog plops his ass on the ground to scratch at his ear, and Nathaniel seizes the opportunity to clip the leash to the collar.

He drives them to a park on the outskirts of town he reserves for when he’s gotten sick of his usual jogging route around the neighborhood. One glance over to Captain, who’s got his face pressed up against the window and is wiggling with excitement, justifies the special trip.

“You’re gonna mark up the window,” Nathaniel says even though he knows he’ll be ignored, the hint of a smile tugging on his lips.

He leaves the dog in the car while he stretches, but cuts his usual warm-up routine in half because Captain keeps pawing at the window, his nails making a horrid noise as they drag along the glass.

Despite how excited he’d evidently been to explore, Captain resists the pace Nathaniel sets at first, trying to stop and sniff every freaking tree and blade of grass.

“We can do that later,” Nathaniel tells him, panting as he tugs the dog away from the moss-covered trunk of a gnarled oak.

Almost as if he understands, Captain lets out an enthusiastic bark and stumbles forward.

When it becomes clear that he’s struggling to match Nathaniel’s stride, his stubby puppy legs working extra hard, Nathaniel slows, vowing to run a longer route to compensate.

_So long as Captain’s up for it_ , he amends in his head.

The pup shows impressive stamina, though, managing to keep up with the jog for over an hour as they travel along the shaded walking path, dense woods crowding them on one side and a rocky decline that bottoms out at a shallow river on the other.

Just when he’s thinking they should turn and start heading back, they approach a grassy clearing where a couple of bikers have stopped to chat. Captain starts up a string of whines.

Though inwardly cursing, Nathaniel acquiesces and slows to a walk.

“Cute dog,” one of them says.

“Thanks,” he responds breathlessly, shortening the slack on Captain’s leash before the dog can dart forward and accost the lady.

“What’s his name?” the other biker asks.

“Captain.”

“Is it okay if we pet him?” the first one asks, drawing Nathaniel’s attention away from the judgmental look he’s given by the second.

He scowls, eyes shifting back and forth between the strangers. If only Rebecca were there. Not only would she have something disarmingly charming yet backhanded to say to Mr. Judgmental, she’d certainly be more excited by the prospect of strangers fawning over their dog.

But Captain’s clearly interested in the attention, so he unwinds the leash from around his hand a little and takes a small step forward. “I don’t see why not.”

Thankfully, the bikers don’t linger too long, just enough to rub Captain’s tummy—Nathaniel resists the urge to groan out loud when the dog rolls over onto his back on the mucky ground—and get more slobbery kisses than they’d probably bargained for.

They wave as they walk away, and as soon as their backs are turned, Nathaniel makes a face and waves mockingly back.

So it’s almost like the universe is punishing him when that’s the exact moment Captain spots a squirrel on the ridge and takes off running.

Disoriented by the burn of it unraveling from around his hand, Nathaniel drops the leash. Then he promptly curses and calls out to the dog. “Captain, heel!”

When the dog continues running full-tilt for the squirrel, Nathaniel makes a vow to invest in some top-of-the-line obedience classes before finally taking off after him. His joints don’t seem to want to cooperate, though, locking with panic after just a couple strides. The scope of his vision narrows until all he can see is the leash slithering further and further away from him.

Nathaniel’s anxious brain jumps forward in time by thirty seconds and supplies him with the play-by-play of Captain’s clumsy little legs scrambling and failing to rein in his momentum as he reaches the edge before it actually happens. The unhelpful foresight only makes it harder for him to control his own movement, though, and he lets out a frustrated grunt as he continues to push himself to jog after the dog.

As predicted, Captain topples over the ledge, missing the squirrel by a pitifully wide margin, and Nathaniel doesn’t hesitate this time. He jumps down right after him.

Since he’s going way too fast for the angle of the hill, he throws his arms out, looking to grab onto anything to anchor him. The first thing his palm closes around is a thin branch of a cypress tree growing at an awkward angle out from the sloped dirt, but it snaps in his hand, leaving the leash-burned skin stinging. Embarrassingly, tears pool in his eyes, blurring his vision and leading him to stub his foot on a jagged rock. Runaway train that he is, he then skids right through a prickly shrub, the tiny thorns snagging at his bare calves, and then has to save himself from running right into the river by falling backward on his ass as soon as he gets to the bottom of the incline.

Though he lands uncomfortably on a rock, Nathaniel manages to tamp down his cry of pain and pushes to his feet, heading whipping around to scan the bank.

The dog is easy to spot. Captain is already bounding over to him, energized as ever. Nathaniel lets out a sigh of relief even as he notes with chagrin that he’s covered in mud and leaves and twigs. He supposes he should be grateful the dog isn’t dripping wet with bacteria-ridden river water, at least.

As Captain closes in, Nathaniel’s attention is drawn from thoughts of where he can give him a bath—certainly not his own bathroom—to the fact that the dog is limping, keeping most of his weight off his left front leg. His heart jumps up into his throat.

“What’s the matter, boy?” he asks, surprised at the sternness in his own voice. He clears his throat.

Captain’s not nearly as perturbed by his tone, though. As soon as he reaches Nathaniel’s ankles, the dog tries to jump up, licking at the air in a futile attempt to give Nathaniel a greeting kiss.

Rolling his eyes but suppressing a smile, Nathaniel scoops the pup up into his arms. Captain, delighted by the move, starts to wiggle excitedly, and Nathaniel almost loses grip. An image of Captain tumbling over the ledge flashes through his mind, and he tightens his hold on the squirmy puppy.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, whispering. Lowering the volume on his voice doesn’t do anything to soften it though—not really.

Nathaniel swallows hard, and tries to focus on getting a firm grip on the dog’s leg. As soon as Captain realizes Nathaniel’s plan, though, his squirming turns violent.

“Hey, wha—?” He doesn’t manage the full question before Captain twists out of his grip. Nathaniel’s responding shout when the dog hits the ground is much more distressed than Captain’s little yip, but that’s hardly reassuring. Nathaniel drops to his knees and gathers the dog into his arms again.

“You okay, buddy? Did that hurt?” It barely registers that his panic-high tone almost sounds like the abominable pet voice, or that Captain gives a responding little wag of his tail. “Let me see. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just have to see it.”

Having apparently had his fill of excitement, Captain keeps his squirming to a minimum, allowing Nathaniel to reassure himself that an emergency trip to the vet isn’t necessary. There’s a gash in Captain’s left paw pad and another, deeper one in his shoulder, but that appears to be the extent of the damage.

A lump forms in Nathaniel’s throat, and for one horrifying second, he thinks he’s about to let out a sob. Discomfited, he hides his face in the relatively clean fur at Captain’s neck and takes a couple deep breaths.

When the sensation eases, Nathaniel stands up, the dog still in his arms, and starts heading back toward the car.

“Come on, Cap,” he whispers, compulsively rubbing his thumb across the dog’s downy-soft ear. “Let’s go home.”

###

“Sit still, won’t you? I need to—fuck! Captain, no!”

Captain jumps over the short lip of the tub to avoid the water for a second time, tracking even more mud across the bathroom floor.

With a groan, Nathaniel gingerly sets down the showerhead, pointing the stream toward the drain, and grabs hold of Captain’s collar before the dog can start scratching at the closed door again.

“I don’t care if you’re the world’s first claustrophobic dog,” Nathaniel tells him. “I’m not opening that door.”

Captain gives him a half-whine, half-bark in protest.

“Yeah, well if you would sit still, we could have been out of here already.”

Captain has the decency to look ashamed but still resists Nathaniel’s gentle urging to get back into the tub.

As displeased as he’d been—and is—with the idea of cleaning Captain up in his own bathroom, his brooding on the walk back to the car hadn’t produced any suitable alternative. Dropping the dirty dog off on Heather and Rebecca’s doorstep seemed unnecessarily cruel (particularly to Heather), taking him through a carwash seemed unnecessarily dangerous, and driving him over to LA to dunk him in his parents pool seemed unnecessarily like alerting his father to the fact that he co-owns a dog.

So he’d accepted his fate, put a couple dirty t-shirts down on his car’s upholstery, and sped back to his apartment where he’d quarantined them to the bathroom.

His only saving grace was that Captain had been content being carried from the car right to the tub. Stains in the carpet would definitely be harder to clean up than the streaks of mud smeared all over his recently-buffed bathroom floor.

Nathaniel lets out a hefty sigh, and tugs a little more insistently on Captain’s collar. The dog’s nails make an unpleasant scraping sound against the tile.

“What is it that you’re resisting, exactly?” Nathaniel asks, fully aware that he’s not going to get an answer. He’s at his wit’s end, though. Neither coaxing nor force has gotten Captain to sit through the bath he desperately needs.

The dog lets out a pitiful whimper when Nathaniel reaches for the showerhead.

He pauses. “Are you scared?”

The dog blinks up at him, somehow managing to look forlorn and like he trusts Nathaniel completely to do right by him at the same time.

“It’s just water,” he tells the dog pragmatically.

Captain looks skeptical, plopping down into a sit where he is—still a safe distance away from the tub.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Nathaniel continues, and then lets go of the dog’s collar to splash his own hand with the showerhead. When he holds it out to Captain, the dog gives his wet fingers a tentative lick. “See? It’s not bad. So come here.”

Captain barks.

“You need more evidence, huh?”

A string of high-pitched whines.

“Okay,” Nathaniel says, scanning the room and finding nothing helpful. His gaze falls to his already-ruined shirt, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

He lowers himself off the lip and into the tub before holding the showerhead over him.

“Feels great!” Nathaniel says over the rush of the water in his ears. His t-shirt is soaked through in seconds. “And if I can do it, so can—oof.”

All thirty-five pounds of Captain crash into Nathaniel’s chest, cutting off his air. The showerhead clatters out of his hand, spraying most of the room as it falls back into the tub.

“Okay,” Nathaniel says, breathless, and holds one hand in front of his face to fend off the dog’s kiss attack. He rubs the water out of his eyes with the other. “Okay. Yes. Good boy, you did it.”

He thought finally getting the dog to sit for the bath would feel more rewarding. _At least Captain’s excited_ , Nathaniel thinks as he reaches for Rebecca’s shampoo.

It’s not as if he’s about to waste his own.

###

Captain’s still sitting by the door when Nathaniel pulls back the shower curtain, done with his own bath.

The dog’s head whips around at the sound, and he yips at Nathaniel, obviously annoyed by how long he’s taken.

Nathaniel can’t help the laugh that escapes him—both at how incensed the dog manages to sound and the way his drying hair has fluffed up. He looks like a stuffed animal.

“You’ve got to be patient,” Nathaniel tells him. “I still have to disinfect all our injuries.”

Captain huffs and lies down, resting his chin on his outstretched paws.

Nathaniel grabs the last of his towels—he’d laid the others out on the ground, sacrificing them in the name of keeping Captain mud free for at least a few hours—and runs it over his hair. The he pulls on some shorts, grabs his phone off the counter, and googles how to clean a wound on a dog.

A few minutes later, bowl of saltwater sitting on the counter and a washcloth in hand, Nathaniel pats his thighs to beckon Captain over.

“Paw,” Nathaniel commands, holding out his free hand. He shrugs when the dog doesn’t listen, and reaches down to grab it himself. “It was worth a shot.”

Apparently having resigned himself to all of Nathaniel’s weird activities for the day, Captain sits fairly still while he dabs at his two cuts with the washcloth.

“Good boy,” Nathaniel says when he sits back a few moments later, satisfied with his work.

Of course that’s the moment Captain chomps down on the balled up washcloth, nicking Nathaniel’s hand with his teeth.

“Hey!” Nathaniel tries to tug it free, but that only gets Captain more invested. “Drop it. Isn’t that a command you’re supposed to know?”

Captain lets out a playful growl, his tail whipping back and forth.

“No, we are not playing,” Nathaniel says, but he’s starting to lose grip.

After just a second longer, he gives up, throwing up his hands in defeat.

As soon as he does, Captain drops the towel at his feet and barks up at him.

“Are you serious?”

Captain nudges the washcloth with his nose.

Nathaniel snatches it up and sets it on the counter, out of the dog’s reach, before Captain has the chance to react.

“Never just hand your prize over to the enemy,” Nathaniel explains to him, getting a tube of antibiotic salve from the medicine cabinet for the little cuts the prickly bush left on his legs. “It’s poor form.”

Captain watches with big, wounded eyes as Nathaniel squirts a bit onto his finger and starts rubbing it into his calves. When he moves from the first cut to the next one, the dog leans in to lick the ointment off his skin.

“No,” Nathaniel says, pushing him away. “God, what’s wrong with you?”

Captain yips, straining against Nathaniel’s firm hand.

“You know what? Fine. Take the towel. I’m gonna have to buy a new set after today, anyway.” He throws the balled up washcloth across the room, suppressing a smile as Captain goes bounding immediately after it.

###

It turns out, Captain can play fetch for hours on end.

So that’s what Nathaniel does with him. He sits on the floor of his living room, laptop on his thighs, and revises case notes while absentmindedly tossing the pseudo-ball in random directions whenever Captain brings it back to him.

He gets so used to the rhythm of the game, in fact, that he stops short in the middle of a sentence when Captain fails to return for an abnormally long stretch of time.

“Captain?” he calls out to the apartment.

The sounds of the dog scrambling up to his feet seem to echo in the quiet space, and then Nathaniel sees Captain rounding the corner of the bookshelf, trotting toward him sleepily.

“You weren’t on the bed, were you?”

Without acknowledging Nathaniel’s question, Captain walks right up to him and flops down on the ground, chin resting on Nathaniel’s knee.

Nathaniel would never describe anything that comes out of his mouth as a coo…but he lacks any other word for the noise he makes in response. Clearing his throat, he refocuses on work.

A few moments later, though, his eyes are drawn back to Captain. The puppy just looks so serene, and it has a confusing kind of melting effect on Nathaniel’s insides. He reaches out and runs his palm along the whole length of the dog’s body, being sure to avoid the cut on his shoulder.

Leaving his hand resting on Captain’s back, he returns his attention to the case notes.

Sucked into a late afternoon haze, Nathaniel’s not really sure how much time passes before the dog stirs once more.

“Hey Cap, you hungry?” Nathaniel asks.

Captain’s tail wags in response.

Nathaniel saves his progress and sets the files and his laptop aside before going into the kitchen. Even though the dog’s dinner is just some kibble, Rebecca’s left him detailed instructions on what do while Captain eats, complete with an attached article about the benefits of petting your dog while you feed them as a puppy to prevent food guarding.

“If only your mom were this neurotic when it comes to teaching you the basic commands, huh?” Nathaniel says, flashing the eating dog the pile of papers.

After Captain finishes his dinner, Nathaniel takes him on a short walk around the apartment building. There’s a nice breeze, and—even though he has to use one of the disgusting little poo disposal bags for the first time—he finds himself enjoying the chance to stretch his legs.

Of course, Captain has to go and ruin his good mood by taking a running leap for the bed as soon as they’re inside and his leash is unhooked.

“Oh, come on,” Nathaniel says, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “We were doing so well.”

Captain barks in response and bows low, his wiggling butt still high in the air. He seems to be enjoying himself.

“Now that’s just in poor taste,” Nathaniel tells him, scooping the dog into his arms and dropping him back on the floor.

Unlike every other time he’s done this, though, Captain jumps right back up.

“Hey!”

Captain barks.

“Get down,” Nathaniel says, but he’s laughing a little, so the command isn’t very commanding. He composes himself long enough to add, “I mean it.”

Captain dances in a circle, rumpling the sheets.

“Captain, come,” Nathaniel says forcefully, backing a few steps away from the edge of the bed, crouching down, and holding his arms wide. “Come here.”

His already intense tail-wagging turns into full-body wiggles, but the dog stays perched on the edge of the mattress, a daring gleam in his eye. Something about his manner reminds Nathaniel of how he’d reacted to Rebecca the night before—how responsive he’d been to The Voice.

Nathaniel sighs.

“Don’t make me do it,” he says. “Just come.”

Captain lets out a series of yips.

Nathaniel grits his teeth and takes a noisy breath in through his nose. “You know what? Fine! I don’t care that you respond to idiocy. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

Captain blinks at him.

He tries in a normal voice one more time, just to be sure: “Come here.”

Nothing.

Nathaniel closes his eyes, steeling himself, and then, in the horrible, stupid, high-pitched voice, he says, “Who’s a good boy? It’ll be you, if you come here. Yeah, that’s right. Come on.”

Within seconds, Captain’s thrown himself off the bed and into Nathaniel’s arms. He knocks into Nathaniel with enough force, in fact, that he falls over onto his back.

Captain’s tongue seems to be everywhere at once.

“Yes,” Nathaniel says, still doing the voice, albeit breathlessly, “Good boy. That’s a good boy.”

With all the commotion, he doesn’t notice the front door opening and closing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second.” Rebecca’s voice rings throughout the apartment, but Nathaniel can’t turn to look at her because Captain’s not quite done covering his face with slobber. “Did I walk into the right apartment? Does Nathaniel have a cuddlier twin that I didn’t know about?”

Having fully comprehended that mom’s home, Captain hops off Nathaniel and launches himself at Rebecca.

Finally able to sit up again, Nathaniel does so, and narrows his eyes at Rebecca. “Are you saying you wish I were cuddlier?”

“Are you trying to avoid the fact that I just walked in on you talking to our dog like a normal person?” Rebecca asks, cooing the words at Captain even though they’re directed at him.

“Gross,” Nathaniel says, both in reference to the general situation and the fact that his face feels tight with drying dog saliva. He pushes to his feet and goes to wash it off in the bathroom.

When he comes out, he finds Rebecca sprawled on the floor, Captain sitting on her stomach as they play tug-o-war with a toy he’s never seen before.

“What’s that?”

“A present from Auntie Heather,” Rebecca says, depressing the squeaker inside what Nathaniel realizes is a plush anchor. “Because he’s a captain, get it?”

“Cute.”

“She must have felt bad for kicking him out for the day,” she says, wrestling the toy away from Captain only to offer it right back. “Good thing she knows the quickest way back into our good graces is lavish gifts, isn’t that right, Captain?”

“Can that really be considered lavish?” Nathaniel asks, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Captain likes it.”

“That’s true,” he concedes.

“Well,” Rebecca says, “what are you waiting for?”

“Huh?”

She pats the spot on the floor next to her. “Come join us.”

He rolls his eyes but, after a moment, does as he’s told.

###

“You swear you don’t mind giving Heather another night off?” Rebecca asks from the open bathroom door.

Nathaniel watches Captain chew on the knotted rope coming out of the top of the anchor, sitting in front of the door and waiting patiently for Rebecca to be ready for bed.

He smiles. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“So you guys, like, really bonded today, huh?” she asks, flipping off the light and leaving the apartment lit only by the moon. She sidesteps the dog on her way over to him, but Captain immediately gets to his feet to follow after her.

He opens his mouth to say something appropriately snarky, but she looks so excited that he can’t muster it. Instead, he says, “I guess so.”

She beams even brighter—causing his own face to light up in response—but then her expression clouds over into something pouty seconds later.

“Rebecca,” he says warningly as she crawls right onto his lap. “No.”

“Please,” she says. “Just one night!”

“We both know you’re not going to stick to that.”

“But you love each other now!”

“You think I wasn’t letting him sleep on the bed because I didn’t love him enough?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Rebecca.”

“Nathaniel.”

At that moment, Captain hops up onto the foot of the bed, toy still in his mouth, and collapses against Nathaniel’s leg.

Rebecca takes one look at him, and then she whips back around to face Nathaniel, hands clasped together under her chin and her lower lip jutting out.

Nathaniel groans when he feels the uncomfortable melting sensation again.

“Is that a yes?” she asks excitedly, bouncing up and down a little.

He covers his face with his hands. “I don’t know.”

The bouncing gets more intense, and Nathaniel feels Captain’s tail whap against his thigh a couple times. “That’s a yes.” She wraps her fingers around his wrists and tugs his hands away. “Right? It’s gotta be.”

“One night,” he says sternly.

She pauses in her erratic pecking of his cheeks and forehead and nose to say, “We both know you’re not going to stick to that.”

He groans again, but then smiles when her laugher rings through the apartment.

“Fine, you owe me new sheets. Nicer sheets than these. Lavish, even. For when the dog isn’t staying over.”

“I can do that—those are acceptable terms.”

“And new towels.”

“What happened to your towels?”

“It’s a long story.”

She grins. “Does it have something to do with the fact that Captain smells like my shampoo?”

“It might.”

“Fine, you owe me new shampoo,” she says.

“You owe me a new rug,” he counters.

“Why?” Rebecca glances back toward the living room even though she definitely can’t make anything out in the low light. “Did he spill more wine?”

“No, it’s just, _apparently_ , my girlfriend and my dog think the one I have is ugly.”

Captain lets out a soft little huff of a bark, and they both laugh.

“Done,” Rebecca says, giving him a kiss before sliding off him to settle on her side of the bed.

Nathaniel lets her go easily, but sighs. “You also still owe me five minutes of sex.”

“Well what do you say we palm Captain off on Heather tomorrow and make it a full ten?” Rebecca asks, and he can hear the smile in her voice even if he can’t make out all the features on her face.

“Hours? That’s only fair. I did give up my whole day today, after all.”

“My, how easily you turn on your fellow put-upon involuntary co-pet owner,” Rebecca says.

“If we promise not to overshare about why we need the time off, I’m sure Heather will understand.”

That makes her laugh, and Captain, apparently as taken with the sound as Nathaniel, shuffles with way up the bed and flops down between them. Seconds later, Rebecca’s hand lands on Nathaniel’s hip.

“Hey,” she says. “Thanks. You know, for today.”

He _hmm_ s, and then says, “Thanks for not making a big deal about the scene you came home to.”

“Oh, don’t thank me for that,” Rebecca says. “You’re never living that down.”

He grunts, but then reaches over to ruffle Captain’s ears. The dog lets out a contented sigh.

“Fine,” he says eventually. “But it’s never happening again.”

Rebecca tries to hug him closer, even as Captain lets out a whine of protest. “Right. Just like the dog’s never allowed on the bed.”

Nathaniel grins. “Exactly.”


End file.
